


tongue-tied

by dykejaskiers



Series: Gobblepot Holiday High Jinks 2019 [4]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Gift Giving, Humor, M/M, Slice of Life, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:26:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21683692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dykejaskiers/pseuds/dykejaskiers
Summary: The first day of December, Jim came to work early in the morning to find a gift waiting for him on his desk.
Relationships: Harvey Bullock & Jim Gordon, Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Series: Gobblepot Holiday High Jinks 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559254
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	tongue-tied

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, one day missed because of an exam, but we're back on track babey
> 
> tumblr @ queergordon!

The first day of December, Jim came to work early in the morning to find a gift waiting for him on his desk. It was innocuous enough – just a rectangular box, wrapped in red decorative paper with glittering silver swirls. Jim frowned at it. 

It would’ve been scanned for explosives, so that was ruled out. Not that Jim thought someone would try to blow him up via mail – most people would’ve made the effort to appear in person – but well, it was still Gotham.

He sat down with his terrible filter coffee in tow, feeling like he was having some kind of a stand-off with the box. It had a large, extravagant bow on top, and it was while he was eyeing it with slight distaste that Jim noticed there was a note attached. 

_James_ , it read, in neat cursive. _Happy Holidays_. _– O_

Jim’s lips quirked into a smile just as Harvey pushed his way in, shouldering the door open. He took one look at the scene, and raised a brow that made Jim feel like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“The hell’s that?” Harvey asked, nodding his chin towards the box. Jim shrugged as Harvey took a seat on the other side of the desk, leaning closer. “Who the hell would send _yo_ _u_ a present?” He continued.

“Thanks,” Jim said dryly. “It’s from Os– Cobblepot.”

Harvey’s expression approximated sour milk. “Penguin? The hell’s he sending you presents for?”

_I don’t know,_ Jim thought, _maybe it’s all the time we’re spending outside office hours that’s starting to resemble something like an actual relationship._ “We’re friends,” he summarized aloud.

“Friends,” Harvey echoed. “Uh-huh. Well, what’s your _friend_ sending you?”

“That’s the question,” Jim said. He took the box in his hands – it was light, practically weightless. He frowned, removing the bow with more care than he’d’ve liked to admit before slicing the wrapping paper with his letter opener.

Lifting the cover of off the box, Jim found himself staring at a neat, navy blue tie with tiny, crystal like stones decorating it. He took it in his hands – they made ties this soft? – and turning it around, found his initials embroidered on the back in gold.

As Jim stared at the tie, wondering how much it must’ve cost – the crystals might’ve been actual diamonds for all he knew – Harvey reached into the box and snatched a note from inside. Jim glanced at him as he read it, feeling a pit of dread form in his stomach at Harvey’s expression, which was morphing into downright gleeful. 

“Friends, huh?” He asked, amused, and dropped the note in front of Jim. “Good luck on your friendly, platonic outing, pal.”

Jim leaned over to read the note which said, still in Oswald’s familiar script, _If you wear one of your sloppy, ancient ties for dinner tomorrow, I will not be held responsible for my actions._

Jim, who prided himself on being a rational, mostly confident man, flushed an undignified shade of red. 

Harvey’s grin widened. “Okay,” he said, standing up. “I see. Tell your boyfriend to stop smuggling arms to afford your fancy ass ties, yeah?”

“Fuck off,” Jim managed, but he was smiling. 

“And stop fondling that damn thing, it looks weird!” Harvey called over his shoulder on his way out.

As soon as he was gone, Jim loosened his tie – it wasn’t _that_ old, was it? – and put the new one on.

It fit well. 

Of course it did. 

Jim put the now empty box down, and got started on his pile of unfinished reports. He couldn’t quite find it in him to stop smiling. 


End file.
